A Comforting Hand
by Lyrical-Light
Summary: Jake is suffering from memories he never wished to see again, luckily, Miss Peregrine is there to help him through it and remind him what family is all about.


A Comforting Hand:

Miss Peregrine sat across from Jake, looking at him in concern. The other children had gone on their Daily Walk, but Jake had come back, hoping to get some time alone . . . unfortunately for him, a certain bird noticed.

Jake was still very upset about what had happened to his grandfather. His mother and father don't understand that he wasn't just close to his grandfather. They never really loved Jake like they were meant to. Deep down, he feels that they knew. Knew that he was different . . . knew that he didn't belong . . . and they had no trouble making it as clear as day to everyone else.

That was one of the main reasons he had come to live with Miss Peregrine and the rest of the children instead of staying in his own time. Well . . . that and Emma . . . He knew his grandfather was free from earthly pain now, but he still remembers everything so vividly . . .

And he wasn't just having flashbacks about that night. He was having so many others too . . . memories that had brought him to tears as a child. That was one of the main reasons Miss Peregrine was across from him right now staring at him in concern and why he looked like a pale ghost.

\\./*\\./

Abe had always been the one that took care of him . . . The only one that ever really, TRULY, loved him. Jake knew he was different when he was younger. He knew it and he hadn't minded because he had his grandpa . . . but . . . when he became older . . . and the bullying became too hard to bear . . . he stopped being . . . well . . . him.

His grandfather had always told him the most amazing stories. Floating girls, walking-living dolls, swiftly-growing plants, girls picking up ten times their own weight, boys turning people to stone with one look . . .

Jake remembered once, when he was about seven years old, he had asked his grandpa about the Children's Home. The light that filled his eyes as he spoke . . . the joy, yet sorrow in his words . . . Jake could feel it, he could see it all . . . Emma, Enoch, Olive, Bronwyn, the twins, Millard, Horace, Claire, Hugh, Fiona and Miss Peregrine.

Sometimes, when Jake was a little boy, he had imaged that he was in the Children's Home . . . playing with the other children and helping around with the chores, having water fights, building mud-cakes, climbing trees, pretending to be a pirate that was exploring the high seas out on the hunt for treasure and riches beyond imagine . . . having a real family . . .

He knew it was wrong to think such things, but honestly, he couldn't help it. Maryanne and Frank Portman were good people, but not good parents. His mother was hardly ever home and if his father wasn't sitting in front of the television watching documentaries on bird-species, he was in his study with his nose deep in book he had yet to write.

He had never met the children from the Children Home, and they felt more like family to him than Maryanne or Frank ever did. They were always there for him . . . well . . . at least their pictures were . . .

But still . . .

Sometimes Jake envied Millard. If no one could see him, then Jake could have escaped so much torment. He could have dropped off the face of the Earth and no one would have even thought twice about it . . .

-:-

Every one of his dream were different.

Sometimes, he was flying kites with Emma, or doing gardening with Fiona, playing soccer with Millard and Hugh, drawing with the twins, having tea parties with Claire . . . though those were few since he quickly grew out of that phase . . .

Sometimes, he was helping Miss Peregrine. It didn't matter with what – he had someone nearby that would take care of him and protect him. That's all he wanted. But no, Frank and Maryann fed him to the wolves.

They never cared when he got bullied.

They didn't care when he was mocked.

They didn't care that he cried himself to sleep.

They didn't care that he didn't have any friends.

And worse, they blamed it all on Abe. They always said that he should spent less time with the man, spend more time focusing on his studies, being social, having fun, playing games and getting into trouble with the neighbour because of the ball breaking their window.

In all honesty, Frank and Maryann know nothing of raising a child. They expected him to be able to get to the table for breakfast all by himself when he was a toddler. Frank even left him on the counter next to an actively hot stove.

The only fun that Jake ever had were on his birthdays . . . His grandfather would give him a small cake – though Jake suspects he bought it – and then Jake would blow out the candles and make a wish and then get a present. One present. Once a year.

Maryann and Frank never really celebrated – that was all his Aunt Susan. Christmas was just awkward. His mother would be working and his father would be out with friends and he would be left alone at the house.

They didn't allow him to visit Abe on Christmas. Never. Not even once.

They also think he doesn't hear the things they say behind his back or when they think he's sleeping. They'd say things like:

"Are you sure he's our son?"

"Why is he so withdrawn?"

"Do you think he's ill-minded?"

"When do you think he'll grow up?"

"Do you think we should have given him to another family when he was a baby?"

The last comment always hurt the most. He had heard it the night after he celebrated his fifth birthday. ON his _birthday_.

-:-

On his seventh birthday, he had gotten a blue teddy bear. It wasn't from his grandpa though. He had asked him. The answer had been: "From a friend in another world." He had loved that teddy to death. He wouldn't go to sleep without it. Never.

His father had said that Grandpa Abe probably made up the story about the teddy bear. Maryann had said that Abe was delusional because of the Dementia.

They said that Grandpa Abe had probably bought the blue teddy bear and just told Jake it was from someone else so that Jake would feel like there are things like miracles and guardian angels. Jake was very angry and upset about what his mother and father said about his grandpa.

So that night when his grandpa told him his bed-time story, Jake told his grandpa what his mother and father had said about him, while holding the same little blue bear in his arms.

Jake remembers his grandpa had been very upset with Jake's mother and father and told Jake that it really did come from a friend that he knew and that it had been a special gift. Then, his grandpa told him a secret.

Grandpa Abe told Jacob that the person who sent it, would always welcome him with open arms, should he ever find himself upon their doorstep.

\\./*\\./

As Jake sat on the chair across from Miss Peregrine, he was assaulted with many memories of his grandfather and himself when he was growing up, but he remained silent, barely even noticing the woman in front of him.

Jake didn't care that he was 16 and had had a mental breakdown a few minutes ago, almost the very moment he saw Miss Peregrine was with him in the house. He didn't care that she had seen him cry.

And at this moment, he didn't really care that she doesn't know why. That she doesn't know what's bothering him and that she doesn't know why he broke down in front of her eyes.

He wasn't thinking clearly. He couldn't. He was having flashbacks and the stronger the memory, the stronger the pain. He has his head in his hands, while the blue-black haired headmistress stared at him in concern.

She had realised nearly half an hour ago that he wasn't going to speak anytime soon. Right after he started to have his breakdown . . . Even when she had brought him to the kitchen, he had said nothing.

The children's walk was at the very shortest time an hour in duration, but today, Miss Peregrine had told the older children to just take the little ones and take as LONG as they need to, after she saw Jake disappearing and running off back to the house.

Of course the older children had agreed, wanting to help their 'brother' (and in Emma's case, 'boy-who-is-a-friend') as much as they could. Since this wasn't their old loop, Miss Peregrine didn't have to be concerned about killing any hollows or falling bombs . . . though there was always something that managed to work itself into her worry-book.

This time, she had had the chance to pick a perfect day. It wasn't a hastily made loop like the last one, so they had all the time they could ever want. So time wasn't an issue or any sort of problem.

What was, a problem though, is Jake was having flashbacks of when his grandfather died. But she has a feeling it was much more than that. Something inside her told her it wasn't just his grandfather's death. There was something else, something deeper.

Something worrisome that for some reason awoke a feeling of dread within the pit of her stomach . . . So instead of the focussing on the feeling, she tried to focused her mind on Jake.

The way he was slumped over in his chair with his head in his hands, the way his black hair seems to be even messier and untamed than usual and the way his skin seems to be paler than normal . . .

She remembered seeing dark circles around his eyes before, but she is still uncertain whether they were from a former breakdown he had or if they are from a lack of sleep. To tell the truth she was rather scared to find out.

She should have noticed that something was wrong much earlier. Why did she not act when she felt something was dreadfully wrong with him when they sat down for breakfast that morning?

Flashbacks usually come forth in dreams, but when it gets worse, they can come forth through visionary aspects and those can be dangerous. She should know. She's had plenty enough flashbacks of her own to know they can drive a person mad.

And by how he's looking, it's hard to doubt that he isn't having one at the very moment. Gently, Miss Peregrine placed a hand on his shoulder. "Jake . . ." She calls softly, trying to shake him from the flashback without inflicting any harm upon him.

-:-

Jake feels a pressure on his shoulder and then he hears Miss Peregrine call his name. He finds himself finally breaking the surface of memories. Slowly raising his head up, Jake looks at his headmistress with slightly sore and kind of puffy blue eyes.

She's looking at him in concern. Her blue eyes staring at his, and for a moment, Jake tries to find the answers of the universe in them. They are like a raging storm of emotion, all held back by mere force of will. Her eyes look nothing like Emma's calm, happy, love-filled ones. Instead her eyes carry much pain and many secrets. He then remembers how his grandfather had taught him to read a person by looking at their eyes.

Shaking his head, he tries to rid himself of the ridiculous thoughts. "I'm okay." Jake says shaking his head, although it's obvious that she doesn't believe him, she doesn't push him about it.

Something Jake is thankful for. Miss Peregrine draws back her hand as he sits up, but she watches him with those sharp, bright light blue eyes of hers and Jake has to stop himself from squirming under her gaze. Apparently, she had been the one to teach Abe . . .

He was still trying to calm down. It wasn't really working though. He was alone in a way. Once the flashbacks start again . . .

Before Jake could ponder any further on the aspects of his memories and being alone, he feels a hand under his chin and suddenly he's staring back into the swirling blue ocean that is Miss Peregrine's eyes.

"Why won't you tell me what's bothering you, Jake?" She asks softly and Jake can almost swear her pleading eyes are somehow searching his soul. As he looks into her eyes he can see true concern within them.

She isn't even trying to hide it like he often sees her do with the other children when they come to Miss Peregrine with a problem. She's trying to understand. To find the answers to questions Jake doesn't think she knows the true depth of.

He looks away from her, but does not move his head for the mere reason that it is rude to pull away from someone. He almost does. Restraining himself, he makes his face emotionless . . . well, as emotionless as he can at the moment.

He suddenly feels her hand falling away from him and she sits back in her chair, her expression blank. For a moment he's worried that he offended her . . . then he remembers that she has to care for Enoch.

"You're having flashbacks."

She doesn't ask it, but she does state it softly as she looks at him. He's surprised she figured it out so quickly, he hasn't even said anything. Then he remembers how smart she is and what his grandfather has told him of her and for a moment, he can clearly see the falcon behind the human-form.

It seems there isn't much that can be hidden from her. He slowly nods, knowing that there's no point in lying to her. "It started out with what happened to grandpa. How he looked the night he died . . .

Telling me to find you and how you would explain everything to me and how it was now safer for me to not be near Florida . . ." Jake says closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Now I'm remembering things from when I was younger. Things my mother and father use to tell me and things grandpa used to say . . ." Jake said sighing as he opens his eyes.

Miss Peregrine says nothing and keeps her expression neutral. Not revealing any of her thoughts or feelings on the matter. She was trying to find more answers though. Jake knew she is awaiting him to continue speaking, but he won't.

Sometimes a person's secret is only their own to keep.

She was willing to look though . . . and he knew she was. She had read Enoch like an open book by just looking at his face and could tell whenever, Claire or Emma, were lying about something. And that slightly scared Jake. If she can do that, then what are the chanced that she can read him?

He refuses to meet her gaze and keeps his eyes planted to the ground.

Closing her eyes, she clasps her hands together in front of her and ponders over what her next course of action will be. She sighs and slowly looks back at the bowed head of the boy in her care.

He is purposely avoiding her gaze. She wants to help him. She truly does. But how will she help him if he won't let her? She knows everything of the pasts of every child under her care – all but Jake. Abe hardly talked about the child's home life in his letters to her.

She mentally scolds herself for never asking . . . though to be fair, she hardly thought that Jake would come to her of all people for answers that Abe had made her promise to never give.

It's hardly her fault that he didn't think to tell his grandson about these things in a better manner than through bedtime stories.

She silently wonders how she found herself in this position to begin with. She's an Ymbryne, she cares for, and protects, Peculiar Children . . . but how in the name of all that is peculiar is she suppose to help a sixteen year old boy that had barely been with them for a full year, if he doesn't trust her?

She ignored the fact that it also hurt slightly that he didn't. Her children may trust her with their lives, but Jake doesn't know her like they do. She might have taken him under her wing but that doesn't mean that he trusts her.

"Jake . . ." She begins softly, trying to urge him gently to go on. He doesn't. She sighs. "Please . . . I can't help you if you don't . . ." She cuts herself off. He has no reason to want to trust her. She didn't earn his trust. He saved _her_.

She had done nothing to prove to him that she is trustworthy. She even failed as an Ymbryne . . .

-:-

He looks at her and tilts his head to the side slightly. He wanted to know why she was so quiet now. She had cut herself off in the middle of her own sentence. He could guess what she wanted to say.

'-if you don't let go of this stupid self pity of yours and grow a backbone . . .'

He watches for a moment, waiting for her to go on. She doesn't continue. Instead she looks to her lap, a look of shame fleetingly crossing her face. Jake blinked. He must have seen incorrectly.

Suddenly, he has another flashback. He hears his grandfather's words ringing in his ears . . . he sees the blank, empty sockets that had formerly homes his grandfathers eyes . . . _'Find Emerson' . . ._ Jake hears his grandfather's voice say.

He almost cries as he sees the lifelessness of them. He feels like a little boy again. Scared and alone . . . Having just come home after being bullied only to be told to go to his room until he is called.

\\./*\\./

Alma just returned from her little guilt-trip, remembering that Jake was still having flashbacks and has yet to even ask for a glass of water.

She looks up, only to freeze. His eyes are glazed over and it looks like he's about to start silently crying. Her worry instantly spikes. Whatever could he be seeing? Abe would have told her if he was being abused . . .

Besides, he seems more than happy when Emma or the younger children hug him. Can't be anything physical . . . Perhaps emotional pain then? Oh, but that's always the hardest to cure . . .

Sighing, Miss Peregrine silently stands and walks over to the counter, pouring them both a cup of tea from the water that the children had boiled earlier. If she was going to pry, she might as well try and make it a little less awkward.

-:-

"Jacob . . ."

Jake was brought back from his flashback by gentle shaking. He blinked and the first thing to assault his senses is the smell of freshly brewed tea. When his vision returns, he finds Miss Peregrine in front of him, an almost tired look in her expression.

When she noticed he had come back to reality, she gave him a faint smile as she stood straight again, walking over to the table. "I made tea." She answered his silent question as she turned back around, carrying two teacups.

She handed him one before sighing slightly, retaking her seat. "We might as well get comfortable if we're going to discuss these flashbacks of yours."

Jake felt his heart drop into his stomach and get swallowed by some sort of monster as cold chills ran up his spine. He drops his gaze to the cup in his hands. "It's nothing." "It's not, 'nothing'." Miss Peregrine says sternly. "Jake, I cannot help you if you do not allow me." She looks straight at him.

"I'm not asking for your trust - I'll have to earn that on my own. But what I am asking is for you to be honest. Many of the children have had the cruellest of lives before I found them. Each can tell you a different tale. But Mr Portman, if there is one thing I know, it's when one of my children are suffering.

I knew something was wrong when I saw you with dark rings around your eyes earlier in the week and again, today, but I ignored it in the hope that you would come to me yourself. I'm done waiting. Now I want answers."

Jake was surprised by her words. She had known something was wrong? And trust? Why does she think he doesn't trust her? Jacob internally grimaced as that thought registered in his mind: 'Maybe because you're avoiding talking to her, you idiot.'

He sighed. He hadn't told Emma . . . If he did tell Miss Peregrine, she'd probably kick him out . . . but he only supposed that it was fair considering everything that he has done . . . after all it was his fault that their old Loop was discovered . . .

Sighing again, he glanced down at the tea swirling in his cup, not daring to meet her gaze. "They're different each time, but the most vivid is always the one of the night of Grandpa's death. I remember his empty eye-sockets . . . the way he looked at me without seeing . . . his eerily calm voice with the undertone of fear . . ."

He shook his head slightly. "The doctors called it PTSD – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." His grip on the cup tightened. "But I knew it couldn't just be that. I know what I saw. That Hallow wasn't created from my imagination even if the screeching of tires on streets and the sound of falling rain turned into an undertone of hissing and the shadows seemed to grow in strength and venom as I slept."

He didn't take his eyes off the swirling liquid in his cup – trying to speak without remembering. "I never felt safe since then. That's one of the reasons that I knew I just had to find your Loop, no matter what."

He sighed. "And that attitude got you captured and put everyone in danger's way . . ." Before Alma could interject, he continued. "But after it was all done . . . I finally realised that – except for those times I was with Grandpa – I feel more at home than I ever felt in my entire life."

He slightly loosened his grip on the poor mug. "I hadn't had a single true worry or fear since we moved here . . . but then the flashbacks started. At first they weren't so bad . . . just nightmares of Grandpa's death . . . then they became more frequent, more vivid . . . I remember my parent's questioning whether or not I was truly their child as I ly in bed gripping my blue stuffed bear . . . Grandpa had given it to me for my seventh birthday – saying it came from a friend in another world.

I'm guessing that he meant someone from the Peculiar World. My parents told me that he was lying and that he only said it to keep me believing in things like Guardian Angels and miracles . . ." The words were soft, yet full of pain. "I loved that bear to death." He said with a teary laugh, but the action sounded more like a sorrowful bark.

"When I was twelve, one of my older cousins found it in my bedroom and tore it apart. I cried all night and my parents didn't even care. They just said that I'm too old for teddy bears anyway. When I told Grandpa he just sighed and pulled me into a hug, saying that he'll see what he can do . . ."

Jake shook his head. "Mom and Dad never did allow him to give me anything after that . . . still . . . every year he snuck me a gift for my birthday. Mom eventually found out though . . ."

\\./*\\./

Miss Peregrine listened as he spoke of his childhood. It sounded horrible, but she was thankful it didn't touch most of the things the rest of the children suffered . . . things like being hit and being left for dead . . .

She was a little surprised to hear about the stuffed bear though . . . Abe never did tell her what Jacob thought of her gift . . .

\\./*\\./

"You know . . . the funny thing is . . . even though my parents weren't the best . . . I still loved them." Jake said softly. His eyes trained on the mug in his hands. "I don't want them to get hurt . . . but at the same time, I can't stand being around them either."

His head slowly rose and finally, he met her gaze . . . but Alma's heart broke at the sight. "Miss Peregrine, do you think my family will ever love me?" His eyes were slightly red and moist, but not a single tear had fallen from his eyes. His shoulders were shaking ever so slightly, but he did not whimper nor quietly quiver.

His eyes held pain, but he did not look away in shame. He was hurt, greatly so, but he was not broken. Miss Peregrine disregarded her cup of tea and sat down next to Jake, allowing him to lean onto her as she embraced him, running her hand through his hair. "We do Jake – Abe, the Children, Emma and I. You are one of us now and we will always love you."

The tears finally fell and suddenly Jake felt like a small child curled up in his mother's arms. Miss Peregrine allowed it and held him tight in her embrace. She may have failed with Victor, but she will never again fail with any of her children. And that included Jake.

And as Jacob finally released all his pain, tired from being strong for too long, he found comfort from Miss Peregrine, his Ymbryne – his mother. For that is what a mother is, strong when her children cannot be, always caring, always loving, always there . . .

And she was right. This is his family. THEY are his family. And come rain or shine he will help protect his family until his soul is finally ready to find rest.

Miss Peregrine continued to hold Jake, trying to take away his pain. He was pained yes, but not yet broken – and she will make sure he never is.

Because family is forever and they will go to the ends of the Earth and through death and back, just to give a comforting hand.


End file.
